The Southern herald., 1887-11-05
We halt suddenlt belorea tall. gray.

Will no bmHlI WOnuef AZ MIS-. her Us
she enters, and asks whether the bibi
loque Qady) is a correspondent also
just then up comes the English In
spector, who greeta vs heartily, and
ushets us into what looks at first sight
like a children's industrial school Ia
fun action. Scores pf little brown
figures are plating baskets, twisting
ropes, or cutting out sheets Of canvas
for tent-making as busily as bees.
But where on earth are the MUIR
dererspN cried my American friend,
staring around him. IN Amazement,
'if these children are precocious
enough to strangle grown men already
they go long ways ahead ofour Yam
kee boys at home.
20, this is only q reformatory.'' says
the inspector, laughing, "where We
keep the children Of Thugs, or Tugs.
as they are really called--a very good
name for strangers. by-the-by. The
papas are in their village just across
the road, which they're never allowed
to leave, and if you like we'll 60 over
and look at them.n
On the other side of the road stands
a high bamboo palisade. above which
peer the grass thatches Of number Of
tiny native huts. The one narrow en-.
trance Of this inclosure is guarded by
q magnificent Sikh soldier
tall, strong and shapely MS
a bronze statue of Hercules
whose bold, swarthy face and keen
black eyes look very picturesque be-
meath his crimson turban. After ex-
changing a word or two with our con-
ductor as he steps back with q milf
tary salute to let us pass in, aud the
next moment we are standing amid the
most formidable gang Of murderers
upon the face Of the earth.
The theory THAI every man wears
on his countenance tho stamp Of his
nature is true only within certain
limits. Many Of the great criminals
whom / have seen bore in their
faces terrible warning of what they
we're; but with the Thugs Of Jabalpur
1t is not So These human vampires
who now gather round me, every one
Of whom has taken more lives than any
public executioner in Europe, arc
to the outward eye q set of quiet,
slouching, meager old men, who might
he gang of beggars, agroup Of harm
less village folk, party Of super
animated native workmen, or any
thing on earth but what they really
are.
"That's the chief whispers my
guide, pointing to small, lean gray
beard with white turban, who is sit
ting before the nearest hut rocking a
child on his knee and stroking its thin
little brown face with the hand that
has shed the blood of his fellowmen
like water.
"Ask him, rejoin /, chow many
murders he has committed" ("
A momentary CLEAN Of cunning
wrinkles in the sunken eyes. Tho old
tiger is evidently suspicious, and stands
on his guard
II can not tell. he answers, with an
indifference which, under such clrcum-
stances, has in it omothing indescrib-
ably ghastly; Il didn't keep count of
them beyond a hundred"
Pretty well' mutters the in
spector; "but Colonel Taylor's pris.
ouer. Ameer Ali owned to 7OO,'
He must have been a nice young
msn, that Ameer Ali" observed !.
"You remember his saying: I'VE
finally decided to murder the men di-
rectly after our evening prayers. ;"
JUST then Noticed that the line of hov-
els has a gap in It every here and there.
as if a hut had fallen or been pulled
down, and the inspector tells me, with
n look OF unwonted awe upon his bold.
bluff faco, that whenever one of these
wretehes dies his house is instantly
razed to the ground, as if to etface his
very memory from the earth.
"Now. before we CO." says to our
conductor Il mean to see for myself
how the strangling was done. Oblige
me by telling this man to put his
moose round my wrist, for don't caro-
to trust him with my throat
The savage eagerness with who b
the withered old skeleton obeys the cali
las if filed with fresh life by even the
make-b believe show Of murder-is fear.
full to see. Knotting a small coin in
The corner Of his handk erchief to give
him sure hold. he slips the moose
around my arm, and then. brin ging
his knuckles together with sudden
twist, gives my wrist q squeeze that
almost makes the bone crack.
Tie awful change that passes over
his face at that moment baffle es all
description. His dull, flimsy eyes
seem to blaze with he'll fire. his sharp,
white teeth are laid bare in a wolf
ish grin, his shriveled. corpse-like
features quiver with a ferocious Joy so
fiendish that an actual demon starting
up before me could scarcely bemore ap-
paling. The thought of that face
bending over some helpless man in
the gloomy depths Of the forest Just
as the fatal moose tightens, is alto
gether too much for my nerves, and II
Is with a long breath Of relief that |
find myself outside the fatal inclosure
once more. -David Ker, IN N u
Times.